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jered sanders - gt lyrics

[verse 1]
work hard play hard, homeboy
everybody ain’t calling out
got a mouthpiece from the southeast
if you want scr-p, stall him out
if you don’t know what i’m talking about
then i feel good, man i’m balling out
i’m a rich man with a rich, fam
christ bars got me out of momma’s house
and i

[hook]
bless god, give thanks (whoa)
bless god, give thanks (give thanks)
bless god, give thanks (whoa)
bless god, give thanks (woo)
big god, big grace (whoa)
big god, big grace (big grace)
big god, big grace (whoa)
big god, big grace (woo)
[x2]

[verse 2]
god got me a spot picked
rap game kinda toxic
bunch of meth heads, let a tech spread
going hard in a mosh pit
got saved ‘fore the clock ticked
linked up with the locksmith
praise god, got a blessed head
not a death bed from a glock clip
everybody saying “dooka dooka”
but they web browse on their new computer
homie, everybody trying to shoot a ruger
and it’s washed up, homie get a loofah
man, it’s for the son, we don’t do the lunar
and i’m in his wheel, better cue the uber
they be in the game but it’s for the show, dog
all they’re missing is a p–per scooper

before you ask where the bars from
gotta ask what has god done
couldn’t tell about christ back then
but i knew about god’s son
ticked off, was a sl!ck youth
with a half moon, lots of misuse
then i hit booth, try to spit truth
like the queens bred with a chipped tooth
said a whole lotta “nah”s
not nas like the mc
man, i’m talking about “nah”s
for anybody come against me
trying to play the boy like a pipsqueak
but without a god, i was mincemeat
he defy the odds, play the bodyguard
i’d have probably died homie, six feet

christ reign, never discreet
big stage, never mistreat
gotta big praise for the big chief
gotta big raise with a big suite
[x2]

[verse 3]
(bless god, give thanks)
(bless god, give thanks)
yo
i’ve been trying to tell you how the human heart is
black on black on black on black
back against the wall
trying to pluck you out your habitat
they be talking stacks like it’s
racks on racks on racks on racks
man, these mumble rappers getting
plaques on plaques on plaques on
plaques on plaques on plaques on
plaques on plaques
we ain’t have no money for the
frosted flakes and apple jacks
homie, that’s a snapple fact
flipping like some acrobats
lock you homie, bet he got to
singing like the rascal flatts

homie we been talking get the money, get the loot
ante up, and stash to get the coupe
try to pitch a pack or hit the booth
try to get a stack or swish a hoop
homie, this a rap to spit to you
‘fore somebody clap and split your coof
bully on the side’ll hit your roof
melon open wide to get the juice

anybody could run it and anybody could get it
anybody could gun it, then anyone get a ticket
anybody could dump it and anybody could lift it
and anybody the money and anybody could spend it
and anybody could pray and then anybody could visit
and anybody could say it and anybody could listen
and anybody could say it but anybody repented
and anybody could pray and then anybody forgiven
ahh!

bless god, give thanks
bless god, give thanks
bless god, give thanks
bless god, give thanks
big god, big grace
big god, big grace
big god, big grace
big god, big grace
whoa!

- jered sanders lyrics

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